


Fealty

by Farasha



Series: Yuletide Smut 2015 [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Sibling Incest, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili has resigned himself to the fact that his brother has found another, and is determined to accept Kili's happiness gracefully. Kili, for his part, would have it known that his brother is being an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fealty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [killaidanturner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/killaidanturner/gifts).



Erebor was won, and by the grace of the valar, Fili was not King Under the Mountain. It had been a near thing - his blood still froze in his veins thinking on how close he came to losing not only Thorin, but Kili as well. When he thought of those desperate moments, the two of them defending Thorin's fallen form with the last dregs of their strength, it made his stomach twist. The clash of steel and the grating tones of the Black Speech still rang in his ears in the dead of night.

It stirred him from his bed to walk the dark halls of the mountain. Out of the three of them, Fili had barely been in better shape than Thorin, having taken the killing strike meant for Kili across his left shoulder. The blade had scored over his back crosswise, narrowly missing his spine to end at the opposite hip, and the healing wound was still tender. 

Thorin still lay abed - that, he suspected, was mostly Bilbo's doing, as he had heard the hobbit berating his uncle at the top of his lungs for nearly getting killed on more than one occasion. There had been no convincing Kili to remain bedridden when he was declared hale once again - he had been the least injured out of them. Fili could not chase away the memory of the blade, barely deflected, puncturing Kili's side. He had fallen, and it was Fili's quick step in front of him that saved him from the finishing blow.

In the end, it was Dain that saved them all. If not for him - and Bilbo's timely warning of the reinforcements - the line of Durin would lie broken on the battlefield. Even so, it had not been a sure thing with Thorin for several days. More than once Fili woke in a cold sweat, the dreaded words ringing in his ears from his dreams - _the king is dead, long live the king._

But the words remained unspoken, and Fili was still only the heir.

He had taken heart in the fact that Kili refused to leave his bedside, would not hear of going to see the elven maid who had sent word to him, but that only lasted until Fili was fit to rise from the sickbed himself. He'd smiled and locked away the roar of jealousy in his chest when Kili spoke of going to see her, and bid him well as he left the mountain, where the sick had been moved. He had no right to object and no hold over his brother's heart. It had been a long time since they were young and inseparable, and well past whispered adolescent fumblings in the dark.

Dwarves didn't feel the same way as Men about relations between family, as long as there was no chance of children. Fili knew that, and had never known shame from what he shared with his brother. Kili was another story - his education had been less traditional than Fili's, and he'd acquired some distinctly un-Dwarven notions from it. 

Since Fili had come of age, his brother had been drawing away from him. At first, he had thought it was merely Kili finding out who he was as himself, not as part of Fili, the way they had always been two halves of a whole. Now, it seemed, he was forced to face the conclusion that while his brother was his life, his lodestone, the other half of himself, the same was not true for Kili.

Fili's steps echoed in the empty stone halls of Erebor, far from the makeshift camp where the wounded still recovered. Any thought of reconstruction was laid aside until Thorin was hale and able to direct the efforts, though the bones of the dead had at last been recovered and laid to rest. The fires lit by Smaug during their desperate encounter with him yet burned, and so there was light; it reflected from the depths of the forges through long, crystal-lined shafts, a dim golden glow, enough for any dwarf to see well by.

It was like wending his way through a dream, walking the echoing passageways that were his birthright and would someday be his to rule. It was those thoughts, perhaps, that led him here, to the throne room.

The last he'd seen this throne, Thorin sat on it, in madness and sickness. The crumbling socket where the Arkenstone would have rested still lay empty - none yet knew what would become of the stone, and even after weeks in recovery, Thorin had not made mention of it. Fili halted at the foot of the dais, gazing up at the stone seat he had been raised for.

He was thankful it was not to be his - not yet.

But what had once been a fancy, a legend of their people, as unreachable as the tales of Durin, was now made manifest. 

"Does it feel real yet?"

Fili didn't have to turn to see who spoke. He would know his brother's voice anywhere. "I don't think it ever will."

He heard Kili's steps on the stone, now, when he'd been too lost in thought before. "I went looking for you in the infirmary and nobody knew where you'd gone. I thought you might be here."

Fili hadn't known he would be here himself. "Why?"

Kili didn't answer him at first. When Fili finally turned to look at him, there was something measuring in his dark eyes. "To see if it felt real." His brother's steady gaze pinned him in place - Fili was usually the more grounded of the two of them, but Kili had his moments of sharp insight, when he saw things that even his elder brother overlooked. He must have seen something now. "I've been to see Tauriel."

Fili tried to keep his face still, tried to contain the twitch of a frown and the pinch between his brows that wanted to come when he heard the elf-maid's name. Jealousy roared in him, dark and fierce - too close to how Thorin had described his madness, too close for comfort. Fili swallowed hard and pushed it away. "I had expected you would be with her." Despite his best efforts, he couldn't scour all traces of bitterness from his tone. He hoped Kili wouldn't catch it, but his hopes were in vain - in this much, at least, his brother still knew him too well.

A self-deprecating twitch of the lips was all Kili gave away. "Her actions set her against her king, and he found it treasonous. He let her live - only she may not enter his kingdom again, not as long as he rules." Kili paused, letting that hang between them. 

Fili took a long, deep breath, trying to shove away the riot of emotion it provoked. With Tauriel at loose ends, would Kili petition for her to come here? Would he put courting braids in her hair? Would the two of them be happy, until Kili passed into Mahal's Halls and she was left behind, bereft and immortal, wandering Middle Earth for the rest of time unimaginable? The thought made something new climb up from his belly into his throat, not jealousy but worse - something like the horrible grief he'd felt in his nightmares. Kili would draw away from him either way, and the thought of that loss was more terrifying than the aching fear that had dwelt in his breast while Thorin's recovery had still been uncertain.

"Are you going to say anything?" Kili prodded, a challenge in his voice. Fili felt like everything he pushed away and tried to hide was stripped bare and exposed.

"I wish you happiness," Fili said, through numb lips.

Kili's jaw clenched, the muscles in it jumping. "She makes for Lothlorien, to see the Lady Galadriel. She will not remain in Erebor. She fascinated me - I had never known anything like her before. She was like-"

"Starlight," Fili finished, the bitterness back in his voice, not wanting to hear the way Kili spoke about her, not again.

"Untouchable." Kili took a step closer, and though Fili's first instinct was to be wary of the hard look in his brother's face, he held his ground. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Are you?" Fili watched Kili's eyes, saw a glint of anger in their dark depths.

"I'd be more pleased if you would stop hiding from me."

Fili wanted to deny it, but his tongue fell still, and he couldn't. There was much he'd hidden from Kili lately, and jealousy was not the least of it.

Kili crowded closer yet, until they stood toe to toe, their breath mingling. "When did you stop loving me?" he asked, and there was such heartbreak in it that all of Fili's restraint fell away.

He seized Kili by the hair, fingers tangled through the strands, dragging their mouths together. It was desperate and bruising, and he would have worried over it but that Kili's hands came up to clutch at his clothes, pulling him in closer yet until there was no space between them. "Never," Fili murmured into his mouth, between kisses like drowning. "Never, never."

It had been so long - too long, twenty years or more, since Fili had this. Still, he would never forget the way Kili's mouth felt, warm and yielding, the way his face was smooth under Fili's palms, how soft his hair felt slipping through Fili's fingers. Kili made a sound into their joined mouths like he was wounded and aching.

Fili backed him up, the two of them stumbling over the steps up to the dais where the throne sat, his fingers still clutching at Kili's face, his neck, their mouths barely leaving one another save to gasp for air. Kili was clawing at his clothes, laces snapping in his eagerness, and Fili didn't have the heart to chide him for it.

Kili's thighs hit the stone seat of the throne and his knees buckled, falling backward until he was seated upon it, Fili standing between his spread knees, leaning over him with one hand braced on the throne's arm. They pulled apart, lips wet and swollen red, breath coming in harsh pants. "Come on," Kili growled, impatient as he'd always been, ineffectual tugs at Fili's clothes succeeding only to tangle him in his own tunic.

Fili wrestled it off and threw it down, yanking at Kili's boots. He got one of them off and gave up on the other, setting his fingers to the laces of Kili's breeches, tugging them open. Kili's skin was hot under his palms as he worked the breeches and smallclothes alike down over his knees, Kili cursing as he struggled to free himself from the tangle. Fili yanked his tunic up as Kili finally kicked free and locked his legs around Fili's waist, drawing him in close again.

Their bare skin met like like the searing heat of the forges, hot and bright and nearly painful with it. Fili buried his face in the crook of Kili's throat, panting open-mouthed against the skin.

"I thought you didn't want me," Kili gasped into his hair, fingers clutching at the muscles of his back, wary of the long, tender scar that bisected it. "I thought - since you came of age, you barely touched me. I thought-"

"I thought you'd want more." Fili breathed it into the hollow of his throat, his palms rough against Kili's skin as he sought to re-learn its texture. "I thought you'd want to make your own way, not live in my shadow-"

Kili made another hurt sound in the back of his throat, and Fili pulled back to see his face. "The only thing I ever wanted - _ever_ \- was you."

The frenetic _want_ still pounded at Fili, from his beating heart to the taste of Kili on his tongue down to his cock, hard and straining in his undone breeches. He forced himself to slow, to tenderly cup Kili's face in his palms. He kissed the arch of Kili's dark brows, the line of his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw. "I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Kili laughed breathlessly and tightened his knees around Fili's ribs, drawing him in closer. "You make me feel bad for trying to make you jealous."

Fili's lips halted their progress from the hinge of Kili's jaw down to his collarbone and he pulled back again, eyebrows raised, eyeing the unrepentant grin plastered across Kili's face. "You what?"

"I had to be sure," Kili said reasonably, his grin widening. "You never said anything outright, so I thought - well, what would happen if I was interested in someone else? But you're so infuriatingly controlled all the time. I could tell your heart was breaking but you only smiled and wished me well and wouldn't ever _say_."

It was hard to say which had the upper hand - affection for Kili's convoluted cleverness or annoyance at his brother's _audacity_. In the end, the annoyance won out. Fili grabbed for the rest of Kili's clothes and yanked them off until he was left bare, sprawling across the throne, his skin flushed and his hair tousled.

"Never again," he said - nearly growled, setting his teeth to Kili's skin this time. Kili shook his head wordlessly, arching his back to press his chest into Fili's mouth as he bit and sucked reddened marks onto his brother's skin, livid against the pale flesh. "Never, ever - I'm never letting you go, now that I know."

"Never," Kili gasped in agreement, the grin never leaving his face, his hips rocking into the pressure of Fili's stomach. His hard cock slipped over Fili's skin until Fili grabbed his hips and pinned them against the stone, holding him there as he worried at the tendon where Kili's neck met his shoulder, provoking delighted noises of wanting from Kili's throat.

Neither of them had anything that would ease the way, and while Fili had a need burning in his loins to bury himself deep in his brother and fuck him until he screamed, he also didn't want to separate long enough to do that. Kili's hands on his skin were slowly burning away the fear he'd kept locked away in the darkest corners of his heart, like a balm on his spirit. Instead, Fili yanked his own breeches down around his knees and uncurled his fingers from Kili's hip, taking them both in hand.

Kili threw back his head with a thump, and Fili would have stopped to make sure he hadn't injured himself but for the way Kili clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer, like he wanted to crawl inside Fili's skin. He thrust achingly slowly into the circle of his fist, his cock dragging against Kili's, hot and hard and perfect. Kili's nails dug into his shoulders and they moved together, falling back into synchronization as if they had never left it.

It seared the last of the doubt from Fili's heart. He lost himself in feeling, leaning in to catch Kili's lips again. The kisses were less desperate now, less begging and more speaking with wet mouths and the slide of tongues, saying _I'm sorry_ and _I love you_ and _mine_. The building urgency of his climax was almost unwelcome. He wanted to stay like this always, tangled up with his brother's body, hearing his name on Kili's tongue, breathed into the small space between their lips. Fili slowed his pace, loosening the grip of his hand. He swept his thumb over the bared crown of Kili's cock and swallowed the half-sighed moan that followed, feeling it sing through his veins like nourishment.

"I'm keeping you always," he murmured, the words slurred around Kili's tongue in his mouth, and he felt Kili huff a laugh against his lips, bucking into the loosened grip of Fili's hand with an impatient noise. He grinned and followed the wordless direction, speeding up the motions of his hips once again. The tender scar across his back pulled, and he found his free hand moving from Kili's hip to rest on his brother's own scar, a puncture nearly the size of his palm. His hand covered it wholly, and Kili sighed into his mouth, his own fingers tangling in Fili's hair, curled around his braids.

It seemed that they moved that way interminably, that time stood still for them, remembering the language of each other's bodies. The frantic urgency subsided, leaving only tenderness in its place, a slow rising tide of pleasure, the two of them wound up in each other as it had always been between them.

Kili tipped over first, a climax like a slow sigh, his mouth opened on a silent gasp and his eyes fixed on Fili's, half-lidded and dark with it. It was that more than the sensation of Kili spilling over his hand that pulled Fili after him. It burst through him, the intensity almost blinding, his throat closing on a sound like a sob of relief. He slumped into Kili's arms, tight and secure around him, their mingled seed smeared over Kili's stomach.

Words weren't necessary - they'd said all that needed to be said, forgiven each other for the rift that had lay between them and both their parts in widening it. Kili's lips rested against his hair and Fili blinked hard, clearing wetness from his eyes, the hollow places that had lived in his chest filled to bursting.

Kili stretched out his legs, grumbling something about a bruised behind and uncomfortable stone. Fili smiled into his skin. "You weren't complaining a minute ago."

"You were distracting, a minute ago." Kili shifted back and Fili stood, finally, though he wanted nothing else but to lay curled up against his brother. Kili looked a mess - covered in marks from Fili's teeth, his stomach slick with their spending, hair tangled. Fili looked him over appreciatively.

"You look thoroughly debauched."

"Not thoroughly enough. I wish the cots in the infirmary were strong enough to take both of our weight."

"Insatiable," Fili accused. "You'll have to wait until we have proper quarters."

"Or until I drag you off someplace more comfortable than the throne room." Kili was unrepentant, grinning at him and giving a waggle of the eyebrows that would have been more suited on Bofur's face.

It startled a bark of laughter from Fili that echoed around the cavernous throne room - it served to remind him of where they were, and he set to putting his clothes to rights. His back stung as he pulled on his tunic, and he knew he wasn't the only one walking away from this with marks.

Well and so. They were two pieces of the same whole, and were meant to leave marks on one another. Kili wiped the mess from his stomach with his tunic and then slung it over his shoulder, hooking an arm over Fili's shoulders and dragging him from the throne room while he was still bare-chested and sporting the evidence of Fili's teeth.

Fili glanced back one final time at the silent, empty throne, where his uncle would sit until it was his time. It didn't seem as daunting - or as distant - anymore. With his brother's warmth at his side, something settled into place within him. He was still glad, that it was not yet his, but it was easier to imagine now that someday it would be - and Kili would be ever at his right hand.


End file.
